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Uninvited Guests
'War Room - ' ---- ::One of the largest rooms within Dawnstar Keep, the War Room is also one of the most brightly lit, thanks mostly to the ceiling featuring a stained-glass dome depicting nothing more than an interlace of colors and light. ::The central feature of the War Room is the large, round redwood table that dominates much of the floor space from within its position in the middle of the room. Polished to a deep shine, it has space for twelve people to sit around it at equidistant positions, and thus comes equipped with a number of highback redwood chairs for that very purpose. ::Set atop the standard red-with-gold-trim carpeting against the usual backdrop of dark bluish-gray stone, the redwood table shares the War Room with a number of other items of furniture, such as the trio of sturdy desks tucked into an open alcove on the northern side of the room, and the various bookshelves that line the walls, complete with documents and maps of trade routes and Imperial Fort locations that would be out of place within the main library. ::Serving as a place of study, business, politics, or simple retreat, the War Room is a location that is tasked with a number of roles when the need arises, but remains mostly empty and quiet all the same. Of curious note, one can also find a steel crossbow quarrel firmly lodged in the southern wall. ---- With the reigning Duchess vacant from a keep, the grounds are scarsely busy. No audiences, no impromtu visits, no couriers...but this time, Dawnstar has become even more silent after her return. Holed away in the keep's study proper, Rowena has turned a chamber of simple elegance into a disheveled masterpiece. Parchments and tomes, ink wells and quills, maps and sketches, dried sprigs of one herb or another...scattered across the war table with a magnitude that makes the massive table appear as insignificant as a goblet tray. For all her efforts in hording these historical and wizened documents, Rowena has run out of the steam required to finish their perusal. A leather tome - soft, supple, and still smelling new - serves as a pillow on which she's plunked her head. Her arms fold on either side, elbows catering some sheltering silence to her ears. Griedan isn't the most silent of creatures in the world. If anything, the massive mason, with his glowing skin and heavy footsteps, is the opposite of stealthy. Pausing at the door to the study, his big hand raps knuckles hard and then just waits for a response, if any. Shocked mostly speechless by the appearance of the visitor and obviously holy aura about him, the herald has simply followed Griedan to the War Room, staring maybe a bit too boldly. The knock shakes him from his stupor. Glancing with horror between the mason and the closed door, he springs to life and squeezes between the man and the room beyond. "I-I am not certain that she's receiving visitors at this hour. Some evenings she does, but given the circumstances, I - " " - Should allow him in." A voice most definitely not masculine finishes the herald's stammer with refined strength. The door stands open now, behind the turning herald's back, and in its place stands the Matriarch. Looking sternly forward through the poor man's head and at Griedan's face, Rowena bows her chin subtly forward with a nod hello. "It is safe to presume that in these times, no one ventures so far for a visit without due reason at an hour such as this. Please," Stepping back, she sweeps a stiffly-tailored arm aside and dismisses the herald with her other. "Come in." For his part, Griedan seems a little surprised as well at Rowena's appearance. It takes him a moment of blinking stupor to remember to bow, offering the duchess a formal bow made awkward by his sheer bulk. He's unarmed and not wearing any armor, but simple, monochromatic grey laborer's clothing. Lacking decoration or adornment, his vestiments are meant for function and durability rather than comfort or style. "I... thank yeh, Yer Grace." he stammers as he slips into the study, rubbing the leathery, tanned skin at the back of his neck. "I... I think what that I picked th' wrong door actualleh. I 'eard what that Lord Varal was 'ere. I didna mean t' d'sturb yeh this evenin'." "Ah," Rowena muses, turning away to let the door stand open, giving Griedan the option for flight should he choose it. "I'm afraid to inform you that your ears have been misled. My cousin is currently not residing at this residence...as far as I'm aware." Tone turning wry at the tail end of that statement, she arches a brow to the shadow of the departing herald. "Ah, 's a shame that. I 'ave been 'is cas'ellan at Wedgecres' fer nigh a year now, I think. But seems what that 's comin' t' a close. 'Twould 'ave made thin's much easier ifn 'e 'ad been callin' 'pon Dawnstar t'day." Griedan tells Rowena. "Ah, but I'm sure what that yeh 'ave mere 'por'an' thin's t' d'." he says in his deep voice made scratchy by the injury which left the white scar that stretches across his throat. "I'm sorreh t' d'sturb yeh an' unless what that yeh 'ave need o' a mason o' a sudden er a message what that yeh need gi'en t' Viscoun'ess Celeste, I'll take meh leave an' le' yeh back t' yer dutehs." Smiling quietly, Rowena returns to her seat but doesn't take it. Instead, she stares with mild bewilderment at the mess she's accrued. Had she really brought in that /much/? Lifting a hand to scratch at her chin, she hisses in a contemplative breath. "I do have words for Celeste. I'm not entirely certain that now is the time to share them with her ears, however, knowing her as I do." Offering the man an apologetic shrug, Rowena pats the back of her chair. "I'm terribly sorry, Master Stonehammer." Eyes flicking briefly along his form, they take on a softer, more nostalgic appearance. Harshness, for now, has faded. "I'm sure that Lord Varal would thank you for your diligence all the same. As would I. Any who do or have in the past served our House have my gratitude. I know that it has not been an easy name - in either form - to follow." A short haired and short soldierly type fellow strides into the room, having been let in by the herald without any much trouble at all. At the moment, Nepos is not dressed in anything fine, or anything soldierly, really, other than the scabbard hanging off of his hip. He waits his turn, evidently, crossing his arms. Griedan starts quite suddenly at the mention of his name. "I... I'm sorreh, but... yeh know who I am?" he asks, eyebrows furrowing to a 'v'. "'Course I shouldna b' t' s'prised beh that. Th' bloodeh Church o' True Light knows who I am, been folluhin' m' 'round ifn th' old woman what that Ladeh Ailith an' I brought in is t' b' b'lieved." He pauses. "I dunna s'pose what that I could get permission t' speak with 'er? I 'eard word what that sh' was actualleh 'un o' th' shaduhbanes. I wan'ed t' ask 'er 'bout what their in'eres' in me is." "An' as fer servin' 'ouse Mikin an' V'loria, I was vereh proud t' d' s', 'ard er not, fer a time." he replies, bowing again and backing away as he notes the arrival of Lucius. "Ah, seems yeh've other bus'ness. Good eve, ifn I 'ave yer leave." "A man such as yourself does tend to be noticed, for good reason, of course," Rowena murmurs, interrupting the compliment with a glance to the new arrival. Tension lines her brow. "As for that 'old woman' the scourge, I do not believe she is in any condition to speak. Much of her remains have been scattered over a good part of Light's Reach grounds as the wind does tend to disperse ash rather evenly." Lips turning thin with a dry smile, she exhales evenly through her nose. "If she were still alive, I'm not certain she'd be so inclined as to speak. The Church has...well. Tarnished its holy name, I fear. In many ways." Clearing her throat gently, she wipes something from her eye and crooks a palm in Lucius' direction. "Aye, good evening, Sir." "Eh?" Asks Lucius upon sight of Griedan, eyebrows lifting up until he raises his hand in the air to halt the much larger man with but a hand signal. "Wait, Griedan." His hand lowers, and he bows deeply to Rowena. "Y'grace. I'm sorry to come so late in the night." That said, he can't help but chuckle at the title assigned to him. "Thank you for the name, y'grace, but I can't say I still claim to it." A wry grin appears on his face, amused twinkle in his eye. "Griedan, ya may as well be here for this. I don't know if you're the right person to tell but... I feel like I can trust you, Duchess. Y'healed me when I was with the Wyrm, maybe that's why. All that chaos in the north? S'all Church caused. Aegisport, Road's End... I had words with a mercenary captain, the same one whose company was hired to attack Night's Edge by the Church, and to kill those Syladri a few months prior. He got pushed aside from leading his company before he could protest by a Churchman named Retribution or some such. But make no mistake.. they're behind all of that business in the North." For not the first time, Griedan is brought up short by Rowena. "Ashes sca'ered?" Griedan asks, dumbfounded. "S' sh' was put t' death? Not what that th' Church doesna d'serve it, but still, I would 'ave liked t' know their mo'ives in spyin' on me. An' in meh eyes, th' ne'er represen'ed th' 'oleh t' me s' much as fear." He shakes his head. "I know what that I ge' no'iced fer good reason. Why th' Ligh' would bother with th' likes o' meh, I'll ne'er b' able t' fig'er out." He tells the duchess with a shrug of his massive shoulders. Pasuing to hear Lucius out, he just nods his head along with the man. "Aye, was pre'eh sure what that th' were b'hin' it, though... 'R'tribution' soun's much like a Shaduhbane t'. Duchess, I canna o'erstate th' threat what that th' Church poses t' Fas'eld. Th' 'ave agen's e'erehwhere an' th' fac' what that th' are now movin' ou' in th' open is somethin' t' fear grea'leh." At last, the chair's calling is fulfilled for a second time as Rowena wilts into it stiffly. Propping her head foreward on hand by her temples, she gives them a light squeeze, listening to Lucius' account. Her eyes vacantly cast a long, sideways stare at the forest of texts and scrolls that she'd laden the tables with. The shadows beneath her eyes would soon rival the midnight sky. "She brought her own death." Haunts a hollow tone from the Duchess' mouth. "Or it was brought by her sisters, one and all." Pausing for a long moment, Rowena rubs at her brows and squeezes her eyes closed for a brief but unmasked yawn. "In addition to these attacks and rather uncivilized rioting that the Church has been partaking in - and thank you, /Lucius/, for confirming that - they have also been dabbling in a slightly more secretive trade. That is to say, they've been on the receiving end of it. Illegal arrangements and now /Murder/ are the words fit to describe the actions of those we once so faithfully followed. I can only hope that the Aurora - or whomever is head of the body now - is not sanctioning these activities. If so, then for once in my thirty years of life I will admit to having involved myself in more mess than I can handle alone." "And that," She adds pointedly, "Is no small confession." Lucius Nepos nods along with Griedan. "Popular revolt. The Cult was weak and ineffectual, for all of its merits. That's how I think it was seen by for lots of people here, y'grace. Didn't have a direction.. people don't like that too much. The Stanchion may change that but the point is that the Church was always firm and people like that. A Ruling Steward that's Touched? A bit too close, even if people have accepted it for the time." Lucius pauses as the Duchess talks, bowing his head in respect to her words before saying, "Y'grace, I do think that they are sanctioning this. This Retribution was almost surely from the Sun's Keep Church. Perhaps they wish to show that the Royal government is corrupt for allowing mages the same rights as us," his hand motions sweeps to encompass Rowena, Griedan and himself, "and that they must fall, as a consequence. It wouldn't surprise me. More Bandus Flint style rhetoric, but people followed the Church until it was outlawed. And even now, I suspect people will. You have power that none else here do, y'grace. I'm just a soldier without an army... m'lord Varal has dissapeared without a trace. But you, y'grace, are the Royal healer. Light, you can speak to whomever in the Kingdom you want, and they must listen! We need action, and concrete action, before things are too late!" Griedan watches Lucius and Rowena with wide eyes, suddenly feeling very very out of place. "Beggin' yer pardons, Yer Grace, but I think what that th' Church 'as been 'volved in such thin's fer a long while. An' I dunna know ifn 's s' much what that w' 'low mages t' 'ave rights, but that we've 'lowed 'un t' rule in th' Regen'." he states. As he grows silent a moment, his eyes get a distant look to them, and finally, he sighs and finds his voice once again. "I thought what that I was done fightin' th' ba'les o' others, aye. Swore t' mehself af'er... thin's wen' sour with joinin' th' Ord'na'ors what that I was done fightin'. But seems 's not t' b' meh fate, aye. I dunna wan' meh chil'ren growin' up in a kingdom dom'na'ed beh th' Church what like I did. Duchess... yeh dunna 'ave t' 'andle it 'lone, aye. Ifn yeh will 'ave it... I'll pledge meh 'elp in whate'er way that yeh may need it, an' all meh talen's, th' Light Gif'ed 'uns what that I dunna d'serve, an' th' mere mundane. At yer b'hest, I'll put meh armor on 'gain an' pick back up meh mace." "I am." Rowena echoes back simply, watching each man's face in turn before staring at the arrow lodged in the wall. "I once pledged my life to the True Light's teachings, like all Mikin. Too far have they now come, and this time they have made the delightful error of infringing on the one speck of law that I hold absolute authority over." Despite the confidence in her statement, Rowena appears more grim than smug. Planting her palms on the table, the Royal Healer pushes herself to her feet and starts to shuffle papers together, belatedly making an effort to privatize her night's work. "The Crown has already ban trade with Sun's Keep. Sealing off their supplies of food and Light only knows what else, this will buy us some degree of time before they are capable of launching too great of damage. Master Stonehammer, there may come a time when I call upon your services. Until what are now mere /thoughts/ can be /organized/ however, I implore you to remain steadfast in your beliefs. Do not allow those who seek you to sway your mind into their following. Encourage others to remain steady as well. I did expect the Church's retaliation - a long time coming now - after Zolor ascended to the throne. A part of me cannot yet blame them. Fortunately, it are the other parts of me that seem more motivated to take action." With a sigh, she breaks in her tidying. "Gentlemen, please. I fear my stamina has been depleted for the evening. If it is that you'd wish to continue this conversation, pardon me until morn." "Aye. Probably for a long time." Lucius appears to agree with Griedan. He nods, bowing at Rowena. "Ah, y'grace. Thank you for seeing me so late, anyways. I fear, though, that the ban on trade will do not much - Sun's Keep is enormous and surely they have large granaries, the kind that can keep them supplied for years with bread. Coupled with gardens and well maintained animal stocks and they can literally hold out for years. Judging by the way that fortress is built, this is likely. Please, pass this on, I implore you y'grace. Light keep you." He taps Griedan as he exits. "'S n' danger o' that, Duchess. I dunna 'ave ana b'liefs lef' fer them t' sway." Griedan says to Rowena. "T' tell th' truth Duchess, I 'gree with Mas'er Nepos, I dunna think what that cuttin' off th' supplies will d' ana good. An' t' b' 'onest, I dunna think what that razin' Sun's Keep t' th' groun' would d'stroy th' Church. Th've in'egra'ed int' the people t' much now." He tells her, offering a bow as he makes to leave, but does not show his back to the Valorian. "O'course. Goodnigh' Yer Grace, an' I 'pol'gize 'gain fer d'sturbin' yeh." ---- Return to Season 7 (2008) Category:Logs